Nurturing Success With 'School Communities'

When I served as deputy chancellor
for financial affairs of the New
York City Board of Education, the
question I was asked most often
was "Where does the $6-billion budget go?"

Assuming this question-usually accompanied
by a funding request for some new initiative-
was rhetorical, I would simply wait for the
solicitation that inevitably followed: "Can't you
absorb project X into this huge budget?"

My short answer was an unequivocal no; the
longer response had to do with 940,000 pupils,
109,000 employees, 1,000 school buildings, a discriminatory
state-aid formula, special-education
cost differentials, educational deficiencies of the
student body, food services, and on and on.

Those were the easy questions.

The second most common line of inquiry
sought my perspectives as an "outsider" in the
system. Having joined the board as recently as
January 1985, I would be asked: "Can't something
be done with the school system?"

The tone--if not the question itself--always implied
that the system was a failure. Despite the
successes of a large number of individual students
and isolated schools--perhaps even the majority of
the school population--the system's 30 percent
dropout rate and the lack of adequate basic skills
among many of those who did graduate seemed to
permit no other conclusion.

Who or what was to blame for the poor performance
of many schools? Was it the board of
education, the chancellor, a highly centralized
decisionmaking process? Inadequate financial
resources? The locally elected school boards that
governed elementary and middle schools? The
superintendents, principals, teachers, parents,
pupils?

Pinpointing responsibility, of course, was impossible; problems pervaded all facets of the
system.

During my tenure, the board moved to decentralize many of its functions. But while it
should continue to pursue such steps, decentralization alone cannot solve some of the most
serious problems facing the city's schools.

Nor can more money by itself satisfy the needs of the many students at risk of failure.

New York and other troubled urban systems must develop fresh approaches for reinforcing
education and involving families and neighborhoods in the work of schools. Chartering
"school communities," for example, could help forge new links among schools, students and
parents, and local organizations to create an environment of success for families from disadvantaged
backgrounds.

My experience over the last three years, as New York City has moved to decentralize many
aspects of its school system, suggests the urgency of these more fundamental reforms.

For years, almost all major decisions in New York had been--and to a large extent, still
Are--resolved in the system's central offices: allocation and monitoring of budgets, negotiation
of union contracts and settlement of grievances, recruitment and assignment of teachers,
curriculum development, building repair, supplies purchasing, and so on. The one significant
exception was the naming of school principals and of the 32 local-district superintendents.

Since this centralized approach was not producing satisfactory results, a small group of
New York school professionals--including members of the educational-advocacy community--
developed an initiative for change in 1985. We felt that educators on site knew more
about the problems of their particular schools-and what potential solutions might be-than
bureaucrats far removed from the locality. If the people directly involved at the workplace
could become problem-solvers, rather than system blamers, we thought they might be able to
create opportunities for improving students' performance.

The strategy was to downsize the system and vest control at the lowest possible levels. The
central bureaucracy--employing 5,500 people--would
be reduced, and the districts, schools, and
classrooms would be smaller. Pupils, teachers,
and administrators would become less isolated
and gain more control over their limited environment.

To facilitate this approach, we obtained from
the board additional positions for every school in
the system. How these positions would be used
was to be determined by the schools themselves
from a menu of options.

A "teacher's choice" program providing every
teacher with $200 to purchase classroom materials
was implemented; for the first time, teachers
would be ordering their own supplies. And for
schools with exceptionally poor records of success
and potentially high dropout rates, more
than $100 million was invested in educational
and social-service support.

All of these mechanisms centered on improving
students' performance. The strengthening of
schools--especially in geographic areas with a
high incidence of teenage pregnancy, single-parent
households, homelessness, poverty, and drug
abuse--was, we believed, the key to lifting
young people out of an endless cycle of intellectual,
social, and economic deprivation.

Given more than minimal resources, a reformed
educational system could make an impact
on all students--and especially those who
formed an educational underclass. But it was
among those children who were most deprived
that major problems with the strategy began to
develop.

The schools these students attended seemed to
have little relationship with other schools in
their community. One of the most successful elementary-
school principals in an impoverished area, for instance, complained that everything
positive that had been accomplished at his school was dissipated when students advanced to
the next level. Similarly, a new high-school principal was appalled at the poor preparation his
students had received in the earlier grades.

There were problems, too, with the limitations of the school calendar. A 185-day school
year, with 6 hours and 40 minutes per day, could not adequately serve pupils with severe
educational deficiencies. Schools were not open in the summer, nor after 3:00 P.M. during the
school year. And even when $5.5 million was budgeted to pay custodians' overtime wages so
that local groups could use the schools after regular hours, no teachers remained to help
unless they too were paid extra.

We determined also that a variety of health and social services were vital to helping these
students achieve success. But many school professionals--concerned about issues of control--opposed
the idea of schools' assuming these roles. And having outside groups provide such
services on site was anathema to them.

Because they were for the most part uneducated and in many cases limited in their knowledge
of English, the parents of disadvantaged children generally did not make themselves
available for consultation. And to the few who did seek involvement, the system was often
foreign and educators intimidating. Many of the parents did not know how to interact with
teachers and principals.

Most distressing, however, was the absence for many students of any support for learning
in their families or communities--or worse, the presence of a negative attitude toward education.
On one occasion, a black college professor visited me to request funds for a support
program to assist elementary-school black males. His sense of urgency was based on feedback
he was receiving that told him children who did well in school were ostracized by their peers.

Without reinforcement in the home and neighborhood for what was taking place in school,
any student who succeeded was an anomaly. Even a reformed educational system-more
participatory and more creative-would fail if the nurturing environment were not present.

For disadvantaged students to succeed, the community must learn ways of supporting and
valuing education. And the physical structure of schools could provide the mechanism for
facilitating such a process.

As one means of approaching this goal, boards of education might charter "school communities"--granting control of neighborhood schools, during non-operating hours, to local organizations.

Since schools in impoverished
areas are invariably staffed--except
for paraprofessionals and lunchroom
workers--by people who live
outside the neighborhood, they cannot
provide the necessary internal
support for education. But with
carefully developed, comprehensive
plans, communities can--and
must--be mobilized to establish an
environment for achievement.

The charter group could be a community-based service organization,
business, religious organization,
university, labor union, government
agency, group of private individuals,
or--best of all--a consortium
of such organizations. The charter
itself would be a legal document
granted for a specified time period.

Once established, the charter
group would submit a plan specifying the actions it would take--with
measurable outcomes--to involve
both family and community in support
of students. The plan would
have to abide by union contracts, education
law, and local regulations.

During nonschool hours, the
charter group would control and operate
the school buildings. The plan
would invite the participation of
parents, students, and members of
the community in such programs as tutoring, classes on parenting, employment and skills training, English language instruction, health
and nutrition instruction, sex education, and drug- and alcohol-abuse
prevention. These efforts would take
place during all available hours
throughout the year.

Wherever possible, activities
would draw on the knowledge--and
willingness to participate--of those
who live and work in the community. The rewards of such involvement-
improving opportunities for
the community's young people and
developing an ethic of achievement
and pride in the neighborhood-would
foster the volunteerism crucial to the program's success.

Schools' regular educational programs
could be tied to such activities
or remain independent of them. A
facility could conceivably have both
an educational leader--a principal--and a school-support administrator.

Reforms of this order are necessary
if students and educators are to
reach their full potential. If we believe
that learning cannot take
place in isolation--that young people need to be nurtured in an environment that encourages and values
their success--then the
mobilizing of the community in support
of education is essential. Chartering
communities of schools could
be a means to such a goal

Jerald Posman, former deputy chancellor for financial affairs of the New York City Board of
Education, is president of a health-services corporation.

Vol. 08, Issue 09, Pages 30, 36

Published in Print: November 2, 1988, as Nurturing Success With 'School Communities'

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